


A Little Stronger Than You Thought

by Sketchyfletch



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Affection, F/F, Fight Sex, Mild Sexual Content, Other, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchyfletch/pseuds/Sketchyfletch
Summary: A drabble. Nadia is concerned as to whether her magician can defend herself without using magic. The first lesson goes a bit off the rails. Written for a female MC but can be read as any gender if desired.





	A Little Stronger Than You Thought

_Nadia is queen. I own nobody in this except the MC_. -

“Do you know how to defend yourself?” The question takes you by surprise, and you glance up to find Nadia studying you. You are sat at right angles from each other, at the end of the long table with the remains of breakfast scattered between you. This has been your seat from the third day in the palace, when Nadia insisted that you move close enough that she can whisper asides into your ear. This places you mere inches from her, and you see the small furrow between her brows that betrays concern. She isn’t merely curious.

“Well, I have magic that can protect me.” You trace your finger on the tabletop, outlining the pattern of the sort of glyph you might lay at your door or across windows to prevent entry from, say, the malignant goat-faced ghost of your lover’s former husband. “I have been taught spells that can attack as well, but I prefer not to use them if I can.”

“No, of course not.” The answer hasn’t soothed Nadia. Her face remains tense. “But should your magic fail you – it has been known to happen, please do not take this for doubt in your abilities – can you use your fists? Do you know how to use a dagger to buy yourself some time?”

You shake your head. “I never had need of it. At least, so far as I can remember.” Who knows what happened before your memories were swallowed by the great expanse of blackness that fills your mind when you try to recall?

Nadia appears to follow the same thought. “Curious, what that time might have taken from us. Perhaps you were quite handy with a weapon. Or a champion pugilist.” A small smile crooks her mouth at last, but it sinks again quickly. “We must remedy this. I will make arrangements immediately; Portia will fetch you once everything is ready.”

And with that, she rises, kisses your cheek, and sweeps gracefully from the room.

You choose to spend the rest of the morning in the library. Julian left behind many scrolls and scribbled notes, and while you don’t think anything will lead directly to him, no further leads have come to light. A distant clock chimes eleven before Portia arrives, smiling in her usual sunny manner. “The Countess requests the pleasure of your presence in the fencing hall,” she announces, looking somewhat amused. You are less amused; while you know Nadia would never hurt you, the thought of doing anything with swords makes you uncomfortable. You know the pointy end from the grip, and that’s it.

You’re given no time to protest. Portia can be as forceful as her mistress in her own way, and you’re propelled out of the library and along the hallway before being turned into a room you haven’t entered yet. Wood lines the floor and one wall; overhead, rich golden carvings adorn the ceiling, pictures of battles and myths that even you remember reading of. Another wall is floor to ceiling windows facing out over a good portion of Vesuvia, and the sunlight pours through it. In the center of the room, hair glowing richly, is Nadia. She has changed into the same boots and breeches she wore for riding, but her shirt is a simpler, open-necked one, tucked into the high waist and with sleeves that billow before pulling tight around her forearms. Her hair is back in the plait that you ran through your fingers on the way back from Vlastomil’s estate. She is as beautiful and immaculate as ever, but she looks ready to fight. “My magician.” She smiles.

She is unarmed; a table lined with weapons rests against the wall. Nervousness curls through your gut as you take in brass knuckles, stiletto knives, a brace of pistols, and paired rapiers, as well as others that just appear to be various forms of stabbing implement. Nadia closes the space between you and cups your face between her hands. “I swear I will bring you no harm. I believe that regular lessons will be required, but for now, I simply wish to see what you can do to begin with. Are you amenable?”

You nod. There is more to this than satisfying curiosity, and behind Nadia’s reassuring looks are fresh lines of tension. More than one person might take an objection to the Countess of Vesuvia consorting with a common-born magician. They might even attempt to disrupt it. Nadia, as ever, wishes to protect you. And while you can protect her now, anything else that might help…so much the better. You start towards the table, and she shakes her head. “Bare hands, first. Come at me.”

You don’t want to attack her. Not that you don’t think she couldn’t handle it, but the thought of raising a fist to her is sickening. But Nadia stands ready, and this is for her piece of mind, so you take a stance that you think might be all right and run at her.

Then you’re on the floor. Nadia’s hands are on your shoulders and you’re on your back.

“How did you do that?”

Nadia pinks a little at the awe in your voice. “Well, my sisters may have treated me like a baby, but I took some matters into my own hands. I felt that I should be able to defend myself.” She’s still on her feet. “I side-stepped you and dug my heel into the back of your knee. Normally it would be more painful and I wouldn’t guide you to the floor, but I don’t exactly relish hurting you.”

Her mouth draws level with your ear. “Not unless you explicitly request it, anyway.”

Oh, that does _not_ help. She knows it too, and she chuckles a little before helping you up and demonstrating again what she did so you can get it. The next few attempts go better; Nadia has more training than you, and is faster, but is reluctant to risk causing actual harm. You manage to grapple with her for a few moments, strength to strength, Nadia’s arms coiling with yours. She wins the grip when she slides your foot out with hers, as slick as a dancer, and tumbles you back onto the floor; but this time you don’t let the fight be over. You roll over your shoulder and regain your feet. The look of comingled surprise and pleasure on Nadia’s face makes you grin like an idiot. “Very good! You are learning. Now I will come at you.”

Nadia bears down on you like lightning on a hillside, and you have to move without even thinking to block the blows she aims for your face, ribs, stomach; glancing blows keep sliding past your guard and you’re giving up space, backing up along the room. Then you start to notice a pattern and suddenly it’s easier. You even get her to move back a little. Then some more, and some more. Nadia is surrendering ground and you don’t know how you’re doing it, but you’re almost at the opposite end of the room. In amongst the blows she’s smiling at you with a wild, fierce expression you’ve never seen on her face before, and you both drag in air like you’re drowning. Small curls of hair slip free from the hard knot of Nadia’s plait and cling to the sweat lining her face; her eyes glow with the exertion of the fight. If you get her back against the wall, you win. You move forward to close the distance –

She grabs your arms and spins you, slamming you hard against the woodwork. In a continuation of the same movement, she pulls a small dagger from her boot and presses it to your throat; a dirty trick, for a bare-handed fight. You start to make a playful accusation of cheating, but then you catch the look in Nadia’s eyes and your own lungs pull tight. The prick of cold metal at your throat is a stark counterpoint to your own warmth and that of Nadia’s body pressed hard against yours. To expose your throat to the knife, Nadia has pulled your hair back.

For a long moment you stare at each other. Nadia’s eyes are those of the lioness, contemplating her next meal.

Steel clatters dully against the floor as the knife is cast aside and Nadia seizes you, the hand not in your head winding tight around your waist, and kisses you more deeply and harder than you could have thought possible. You return it immediately, consuming more of this wild, gorgeous woman with every second, and she growls – not moans but growls – in response.

When she drags you down this time, you don’t even try to rise.

When sense returns, you are draped across her on the floor. Most of your and her clothing is scattered every which way; some of it is torn. Your heart is still hammering but is finally beginning to slow, and your breaths start to ease from short, hard gasps. Your hair clings damply to the nape of your neck. Nadia smiles lazily, but affectionately, one finger tracing over the marks she’s left on your neck. “I will confess.” Her voice is a low purr. “This was not actually my intention when I arranged for us to spar.”

“No?” You can’t resist teasing her. “This wasn’t just a plot to get me hot and flustered and unable to resist your whims?”

“There was not much resisting that I detected.” Even within the afterglow, Nadia is able to make you blush again. You did not want to resist, at all, and you made that almost embarrassingly obvious at points. You change the subject.

“What was the dagger about?”

Now she blushes. “I was going to use it as a demonstration of why it is best not to underestimate an opponent, or assume you have the upper hand. It did not work as planned.”

“I think it worked very well.” You initiate the kiss this time, a slow, tender echo of the ones that came before. “And I should have known better than to try and push you against the wall.”

“I was quite impressed,” she admits. “I believe you may well have had some training in the past after all. You were pushing my capacity to fend you off.”

You lapse into silence for a moment. What were you before? Asra’s apprentice, but obviously more than that. Could you have been a fighter?

It’s hard to stay focused on this chain of thought for long when Nadia wraps one leg around yours, and places a light kiss on your nose as her fingertips run down your stomach. You giggle, a little, and her eyes light with mirth. It is no secret by now that you’re ticklish. She doesn’t prolong the torture, though, and curls some of your hair around her finger. “I am reassured that you clearly know something of how to take care of yourself. Outside of your obvious skills with magic, I mean. But we should do some actual training at some point, so you are versed in self-defence in as many ways as possible.”

“Will you be my teacher?”

“Of course.” Nadia considers. “But perhaps we should have somebody else in here with us on occasion, to ensure we stay on track.”

That gives you pause. “Wait, when did Portia leave?”

You had completely forgotten she even accompanied you into the room. Nadia’s eyes widen, and she looks towards the door, before the corners of her mouth curl and she presses her head against your shoulder, starting to laugh. “I forgot to dismiss her. She must have…excused herself.”

You let your head flop against the floor, laughing as well. It’s easy to see the funny side when Nadia is pressed so close to you, her giggles shaking your body as well. “Oh, gods. She’s never going to let me forget about this.”


End file.
